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Can the poet avoid the Sword of Damocles
Suspended above his head
By the thinnest thread?
His pleas
To those who he has offended
That he is merely speaking the truth
Will not prevent
The descent
Of sword from roof.

The poet’s curse
Is to write verse
That will
Sometimes chill
His readers to the heart.
They will traduce
Him for his art,
But the sword of truth
He must brandish high
Else he will die

From a supposed move in time of March 1, no communication at all. Very frustrating. I know it doesn’t matter to them and we are just needy nobodies to them. Do they think I would put myself in this position if I didn’t have to. Very humiliating the treatment can be. I am afraid when they finally call to view the apartments I will be otherwise engaged in something I can’t change.

Still waiting for my court date for the bankruptcy. I did get the court number for my case, but still no date set.

I just had my 3rd lumbar epidural. I actually feel less pain this time. Maybe it will work this time and we can start on the neck. This time I did it with iv sedation and not a local. I never felt or knew it happened until they were waking me up. Costs more, but…

Oddly, last week I wrote about hitting 100—-100 “career” drives since signing on to drive via the Uber app. At that point, my longest trip had been relatively modest—about 20-25 miles, and that had happened fairly regularly. That is, until today.

I started early, forgetting that the clock had sprung forward and we had lost an hour. The app flipped on at about 6:30 a.m. coffee in hand, SiriusXM radio playing. The pings started right away and I completed two relatively short trips. The third ping was from the area of a local college, but I figured on a Sunday morning at the close of Spring Break it wasn’t an airport trip, but likely a breakfast run. Remember, as an Uber driver you don’t know your destination until you arrive and swipe to begin your trip.

The annual Halloween fancy dress ball set in a candle-lit cave in the Forest of Dean was a must-do event in the social calendar. Defined as a ‘Spice Classic’, it was a firm favourite which would sell out within weeks of being advertised.

We cannot take the credit for finding this awesome venue; by the time we took over our particular Spice group the event had been running for a number of years. Our predecessor had procured the most basic of accommodation and for the first two years of our tenure we stuck it out in a dismal, grimy youth hostel, complete with single sex dorms and chewing gum encrusted bunk beds. Most of the old school members liked its communal feel; we had the entire venue to ourselves and there was a huge dining area for breakfasts, suppers and for general chats and costume adjustments…

Ever have a bad day? I mean a really bad day? You know the kind of day I’m talking about — where so many things go wrong that this becomes your expectation. Before the day is even over, you just wish it would end. You’re frustrated and might even be tempted to cry. Bump that! You wept — weeping and wailing like Lazarus had died.

On those days, you just have to stop and check yourself. Is it really a bad DAY? Think about it. If you tell someone that you had a bad day, it’s safe to assume that every aspect of your day was crummy from beginning to end. Yes? That means there were no moments of joy, celebration, or grace. Right? Well, let’s reframe that terrible, no good, frustrating day.

First and foremost, God woke you up to experience this terrible, no good, frustrating day. You are…

Well, I managed to survive another week, and by survive, I mean LITERALLY not get killed. Over the course of the last few days, something terrifying happened, and something lovely also happened. Do you want the good news or the bad news first? Obviously, the bad news, right? Because we need to get the sh*t out of the way so that we can celebrate the good things that life has to offer. So away we go…

On Thursday, I decided that I wanted hot chocolate. I like to make it with half hot water and half milk, but the communal milk in my mini-frig was sour (sorry, M, but we aren’t drinking that sh*t fast enough—pick up the pace!), and I decided to pop down to the store on the corner to buy a new carton. I came back into the building with my bag of milk, and some hummus and…

So the other day Peter and I were sitting in a restaurant and I overheard a couple talking. Please don’t get me wrong…I didn’t mean to eaves drop. I just happened to hear what they were talking about. We were the only people sitting in that section so it was kind of unavoidable to hear. Plus I’ve got this ability to split my focus on more than three things at once…it comes with motherhood:-)

Anyhoooo. It was a real relaxing environment. You can’t help but to settle yourself into the surroundings so easily, so comfortably. The fact that it was basically a kids free zone made it official that couples could really just let their guards down. So there we were…just chilling on the open deck of the restaurant deliberately choosing light topics to chat about.